Walking with the Vampire |COMPLETE|

15. A man possessed

Nicholae's took cover behind a dead tree to catch his breath. His breathing came in short labored pants as his chest squeezed from exhaustion and pain.
A bolt of pain exploded his side as he removed the improvised stake embedded in him. 
Bloody fingers moved away from the bleeding wound in his side caused by a tree branch.

The wind shifted to his advantage so Nicholae ducked. Had he still been there, a fist would be impaled in his back.

'What is this young master? Are we playing hide and seek?'

Splinters flew everywhere when he forcibly removed his fist from the tree stem.

'I love this game.' One demon mocked.

Nicholae cursed himself for the thousandth time for coming unarmed.
He should have known better, but he put Tiana into consideration.
An image of a shiny firearm sitting aimlessly in his glove compartment taunted him. The idea of his gleaming gun with demon and witch killing bullets made him more frustrated with his situation.

But this wasn't the time to even think about it. The clear and present danger was charging at him with yet another stake in his hand.

Nicholae dodged the first swing and swerved the next.
The throbbing pain was beginning to slow him down. He just remembered he hadn't taken the time to have a snack. He just realized that he had been avoiding doing so in front of Valentina.
He was currently fighting on adrenaline and fumes and soon it would run out making him become slower and a much easier target. The demons were ruthless in their attacks leaving him no space to breathe.

Nicholae thought fast, he had to switch from the defensive, he was taking too much of the brunt which weakened him even faster.

He parried and caught one flying arm and immediately tore into the arm.
The demons shrieked in pain, backhanding Nicholae in retaliation. He saw that coming and reacted on time.
He pulled the possessed man towards him and bit into his tough neck.
Nicholae hang on for dear life as he tried to rip out his/ their jugular.
The spray of black liquid spoke of his success and yet the man still stood firmly.
Nicholae stumbled away from the demons who gurgled in laughter.
He spat out the rest of bitter black ooze that was their blood. The liquid made his throat itch.

'What was that? It can't be all he's got?' Their mouths produced a mix of gurgles, words and the occasional wheezing.

A branch slammed into his wounded side.
He went flying to the rough ground.

Black spot of all sizes danced in his vision.
It especially didn't help that he'd cracked his head on a rock. A trial of blood led down into his left eye.
He quickly scurried away. His feet didn't quiet get the message to stand and so there he was, still on the ground: a sitting duck for the five demons.
'Either way my lord, you are going to die out here. You either die at our hands or by sunlight.'
He dared to look beyond them and at the sky.
They let him, standing over him with their dark blood falling on his tunic, they wanted to bask in his fear.
But he wouldn't give them that.
They knew something he didn't. His clothes were warded, they couldn't think someone of his noble birth wouldn't have securities in place. 
But he still felt uneasy.
Nicholae thought that he was a goner when they reached down for him.
He had much to live for, and he wasn't going to go down without a proper fight.
There was a twisted murder in their eyes when they came at him. It was paralyzing, but he wouldn't be cowed. He refused to be. He had a son to get back home to and a promise of something else.